Darkness That Lies Within
by Onyxfang
Summary: A darkness has fallen over the planet on which the Beast Wars rage. A new Maximal, captured by the Predacons, becomes a slave to spark twisted by a cruel past. Bitter enemies are formed, as are unexpected relationships.Slash.OC/OC,W/TS,DB/RT. On Hiatus
1. Prologue

**Darkness That Lies Within**

**~*~**

**By Taratron and Onyxfang, 2008**

Would you mind if I hurt you?

Understand that I need to

Wish that I had other choices

than to harm the one I love

What have you done now!

I know I'd better stop trying

You know that there's no denying

I won't show mercy on you now

I know, should stop believing

I know, there's no retrieving

It's over now, what have you done?...

~_Within Temptation, What Have You Done, 2007_

_***_

150 Million Years Ago…

A massive insect, emerald hued in color, vaguely resembling a modern praying mantis, flitted amid the massive, hairy ferns which dotted the lake's shorelines, pausing like a moth drawn to a flame by a clear green orb amid the foliage. The insect hovered motionless except for the ceaseless beat of it's wings, then a thin, delicately scaled eyelid flicked over one the orb one, twice, it's pupil contracting to zero in on the admirer. Disconcerted, the mantis shot away and landed on the branch of nearby tree, flexing its long forelimbs.

The brush rustled as the owner of the bewitchingly green eyes emerged, flexing the membranes of skin which stretched between its frail, birdlike thorax and leanly muscled limbs. A nightmarish beak stretched open in a yawn, displaying fully-toothed jaws perfect for spearing fish or frog .No one would ever accuse the Rhamphorhynchus of being a beauty, and in all truth, it couldn't have cared less. It was a simple creature, an efficient cross of reptile and bird situated in the heart of the food chain.

Its keen gaze took in its home territory, the same into which it had hatched, a beautiful tropical terrain, a place far the opposite of the Badlands composed of molten lava and blackened rock nearby. It was sheltered by elaborate planting, huge, hairy ferns, exotic, spiked flowers, long, curling vines. But the glorious foliage had a drawback: it hid other, more formidable predators.

Claws scraping bark from trunk, the pterosaur scrambled up a tree and took flight, gliding over the lake. A shimmer below the ripples caught its attention and with one swoop it skimmed down and broke the mostly calm surface, scooping up a sizable fish in its bill like a modern day pelican. The weight of the fish and water expanded its throat pouch, weighing it down until it drained the liquid back into the lake, landing on the far side to swallow.

They came at it from both sides. A pack of velociraptors, so silent and swift it'd never known they were there. They are lean, ferocious killers, more like cyborgs than anything organic. Their shrill hunting cries mixed with the pterosaur's screeches of agony as they tore it apart. Its blood drained into the lake rippling the clear water with pink crescents. The raptors fed on flesh and vital organs, scattering bones along the shoreline where they remained till many years later…

***

The pod gleamed unnaturally in the sun.

Unlike many before it, it was undamaged, the protoform in it complete and whole. This could perhaps be because of its landing destination among the thick ferns and trees, which had somewhat slowed and cushioned its crash, or perhaps Primus was in a generous mood. Whatever the case, if one judged this newcomer lucky to hand arrived on the planet of the Beast Wars with it's locking chips, data tracks, and DNA scanning array all intact, directly upon the fossilized remains of a compatible life form, no less, they would have been a fool.

Green eyes peered over the edge of the bank at its reflection, and then lifted claw-tipped hands in front of its face curiously. It lifted its small head and gazed up in awe at storm clouds brushing the tops of purple mountains framed by the massive trunks of ancient trees. The tranquil silence was shredded to remnants. A flame-thrower roared, scorching through the abundant foliage and reducing it to ash.

The newcomer shuddered and cowered as shadows overtook it, shadows of beings far larger and more powerful. They engulfed the new warrior and swallowed her whole.


	2. Meet Thy Master

**Darkness That Lies Within**

**By Taratron and Onyxfang, 2008**

_Author's Notes: Characterization of Manterror is copyrighted by Taratron. Laserbeak is copyrighted by Onyxfang as she is a completely different character than the G1 character and only very very loosely design-wise based off the Beast wars Action Figure. The story is property of both of us, don't steal it or Manterror will be paying a visit to show a revved us razor edged ion disc up your tailpipe! Enjoy!_

_Right now a big decision_

_Violence as polished steel_

_This is something different_

_Don't know how big this feels_

_No time for asking questions_

_No time for wondering_

_We've had enough of you now_

_You've heard everything_

_You want to play a new game_

_You put on this blindfold_

_You do what we tell you_

_You do as you're told_

_Used to be the leader_

_Now comes the time to serve_

_Maybe we'll show some mercy_

_Maybe you'll get what you deserve_

_Countdown to the end, but make it go faster_

_This is your disaster_

_Countdown to the end, but make it go faster_

_Come on down, my friend_

_It's time to meet your master_

_~Nine Inch Nails, Meet Your Master, 2007_

It was near sundown, as the night patrol shifts were heading out, and the day ones coursing in; when the alarm went off on every com in the Darkside, notice from their leader of a meeting, _now_, in the promenade. Far away and below the bridge area, Manterror growled to himself, irritated at the interruption, but checked off his last place over his data pad, insuring all the heats were off his many, many experiments, all the cages were secure, and his lab, with small quarters attached (he did have other quarters, but when he worked here nonstop, it made sense to be below), and only then did he beast mode and fly most of the way to the main promenade, where Megatron sat on his thrown, looking dark as he so often did.

The rest of the troops shuffled in, largely waiting for the news on the hovercrafts, or seated at the consoles; Manterror himself barely noticed the small barred cell next to Megatron, let alone the femme inside it...

Terrorsaur muttered something to Waspinator and the wasp buzzed a childish giggle, though if it was at the mantis or the femme, he couldn't be sure. A pair of anxious large green eyes peered from Megatron to the encircled Predacons and back, claws clicking on the cage floor.

Manterror did not even glance at the other flyers; over the past year he had heard every comment as to his parentage, had suffered many surprise attacks and slashes and brawls from fellow Predacons...had, of course, tried repeatedly to reach his wayward father, to be attacked on _that_ end as well, and had finally cut all hope for it, for any support from his creator....and it had not hurt the mantis either that he often left his fellow Predacons in the R chamber after snide remarks or direct attacks, but none of them dared attack him now, for fear of his toxins, and where they might end up (Terrorsaur himself had once sliced his hand open on a hidden ion disc in the handle of his own blaster, and been comatose for nearly three days, despite the R). But he remained silent as Megatron spoke.

"Predacons, we have ourselves a new addition, yessss." The tyrant waved slightly, bringing the cell before his throne. "Transform, you." To the rest of his troops, he continued. "Unfortunately, she lacks any and all experience in warfare....did not even know how to transform, noooo.....as a Predacon, she is worthless."

The small creature blinked her large green eyes uncertainly. In the shadows she could dimly be made out to be a Rhamphorhynchus, a genus of long-tailed pterosaurs in the Jurassic period. She was roughly Rattrap's size in beast mode but when she transformed and stood up she was closer to Blackarachnia in form and mass. Her coloring was still masked by darkness.

The tyrant smiled darkly, watching the mass of males look her over; it was, of course, a form of insanity with his next words, but Megatron was, if nothing else, a realist: he had a crew formed largely of convicted criminals, all of them, save one, male...and blasting the failures to the R had no good response from them. Bribery would. "Manterror, she is yours now." The mantis paused, antennae half raised. "Your slave and property. The rest of you, take heart, yessss.....Manterror has succeeded where you have failed. This is his reward....the next downed pod could be yours. Dismissed."

Inferno oddly did not seem stricken by the news, though he had been with Megatron at the time the new bot was captured and had as much claim to her as anyone; but he also lived only to serve Megatron, he needed no gifts or bribery.

The others began to file out with the occasional disgruntle comment, mostly on the behalf of the scarlet flyer.

Terrorsaur looked sharply annoyed and muttered loudly as he stalked out, "How come HE always gets rewarded? All he does is sit in his lab on his skid plates while the rest of us get shot up..."

"You call that a reward?" hissed the widow as she followed slightly. "Being watched night and day? I'd think he trusts the mantis even less than Legs....Tarantulas patrols whenever he wants, and the mantis is kept inside....so either Megs can't even trust him out of the base, or he's got something good enough to keep from patrol or sentry duty....I'd rather patrol every day and have my privacy."

Terrorsaur turned to glance at her with a lurid smirk full of implication, flashing his needle sharp teeth that were so deceptively disguised by his perfectly formed mouth, "Well if you ever NEED to be watched constantly I'd gladly

volunteer...

"Slag off." She stalked down the corridor away from the flyers who headed for the lift to return to patrol duties.....of course, she did have a point....if Manterror had any secret agendas, Megatron already knew about them. What price freedom....

Manterror remained silent, wings flickering uncertainly, knowing that to object would see him sent to the R.

Megatron himself had already turned to his work, ignoring the new master and slave as her cell settled and opened onto the main walkway, Manterror watching her as a mantis does its prey, silent.

She hesitantly emerged from the cage, taking everything in with optics as vividly green as her beast mode eyes. Her bot mode form was pleasingly sleek, adorned in flame like stripe markings from her beast mode, burningly vivid blue which faded into bright hot pink with black at the core. The majority of her color scheme made up of varying shades of purple and powdery lavender. Her feet were long and arched like those of her beast mode, her wings folded on her back like a fallen angel's. Delicate black hands clasp and unclasp at her sides, tipped with fine claws. All these things Manterror took in with a glance, but no interest. She could have resembled a female Rattrap and he wouldn't have cared. At the moment she was just an added nuisance.

At least the gaze upon her wasn't undressing her, as the other pterosaur and the spider had been, she mused, which was a small comfort. "Follow me." And he turned abruptly, flying away, over and around and down another hallway, leading deeper inside the ship, past several hot chutes of lava-spiraled air, until he landed, with several metallic clicks from his clawed feet, at his lab door. He never once checked to see if she had followed.

Which she had without question, shifting back to beast mode and landing with the sound of a flag caught in the wind as her wings folded.

"I will make this simple," he said shortly, not even bothering to look at her, "You are my slave and I am your master, and you will speak only when spoken to, and never leave this room." He keyed in, quickly, with the tip of his claw, entering the room's pass code, not allowing her to see, and the door opened; He stalked in first, the door firmly locking behind her, her permanent home....a very large room, with a hallway leading off to a locked door, but the room she was in, very...strange, to say the least, with several glass and metal tanks containing live animals, some insects, many, many spiders, some snakes and frogs, and along the far back wall, a row of computer monitors and consoles, many of them alight and whirring with data. So much to take in...!

His words had sent a pang of panic through her as she glanced back through the slit of the closing doors before they slammed shut. Everything was so...new. Even the lava with its lively glowing burn had seemed so beautiful to her amazed eyes. But now they took on a whole new gleam of fascination as she walked along the tanks, staring into each one in turn, memorizing the life forms within.

"First rule....do not touch anything. No beakers, no needles, no cages. I work in toxins, and not in making anti-venoms for them." The mantis stood before her, antennae raised, eyes cold. Even in beast mode he towered over her, nearly as tall as Megatron's tyrannosaurus mode. "I do not want a servant or a slave, but far be it for me to refuse a gift. Now, transform, and you may speak. What is your name?"

She looked at him quickly and transformed without ever uttering her code. Her voice was soft but with an underlying potential for sultriness, like Angelina Jolie's if either had known who that was. But there was not even the faintest hint in her eyes or voice of deception or the ability to be deceptive, "Laserbeak."

"You're not very good at this already, I'm afraid....do you realize the gravity of your situation?"

"I...y-yes,' she nodded, ducking her head obediently. She flinched with the realization that she should have addressed him more properly, but was unsure whether to call him "Master" or "Sir". The large purple Predacon who seemed to be leader had identified him as "Manterror" but she was entirely aware her station was far below his and to address him by name would be insulting, as if she were assuming they were equals.

"Do you?" And he transformed suddenly, revealing her master for the first time....he was only inches shorter than Megatron, slashes of oranges and purples stark on his lanky green frame; his claws were larger than her arms, and were lined with dried and old mech blood, and his face, with burning, almost demon-like optics, and teeth more fitted to dinosaur or demon than any bot, his purple wings folded around his back. So much taller than her, and though he was thin, she could easily see the strength in him...

Laserbeak stared up at him in blunt awe, her mouth open slightly, but not afraid. Not yet. The way she looked at him he could have been Prime himself standing before her.

It was only then that she noticed the slight humming noise in the room, starting when he had transformed, and her optics were drawn to the source: his large green and orange claws, whirls of purple whizzing within them, though one slowed enough for her to see: it was a projectile, revving to be fired.... "Do you understand me, servant girl? Slave?"

"Yes..." she hesitated, still unsure how to address him, "Yes, sir. I understand. I am at your mercy."

"Did Megatron speak the truth? You didn't even know how to transform? .....what _do_ you know?" Well.....if nothing else Megatron had commented to himself that a female sex slave might only increase his other troops' successes, if Manterror received her....of course, did she know what he had meant?

"I knew, just…not the way he told me to…" she said slowly, certainly not wanting him to think her an incompetent fool.

"What did he inform you of.....your new roles as a slave..."

She shook her head, "He did not inform me. I thought it not my place to ask. He said…I was fortunate he'd decided not to have me melted down for scrap, that he was gracious enough to let me live even though I'm of no use to him..."

She hesitated, trying to address his earlier question, turning her optics momentarily to the table of cages and tanks, "I know...what these are…though I've never seen them before. I know their role in the system of their natural order, their capabilities. But I never imagined they'd be so..." she paused, her voice barely a whisper,"...beautiful…"

He watched her coolly, unmoved. ".....and what value do you have to _me_, slave. You are not a chemist and I have no need of guinea pigs as test subjects." From his gaze, he would gladly melt her down for scrap....

Her optics flickered rapidly, blinking as she thought rapidly of a way to delay her destruction before admitting truthfully, "I...I don't know. I will do whatever you ask of me."

Her optics flickered again to a tank containing a golden silk orb-weaver spider, fascinated, drinking in its movement as if trying to absorb everything she could before he destroyed her if he chose to do so.

Manterror looked her over, silently, still privately disgusted by this. Good bug gets a treat, here, have a slave...she was very likely a spy for Megatron regardless. ".....you do know why you were given to me, don't you....?"

Her attention snapped back to him, "Megatron said it was because you were to be rewarded for your successes."

"Yes, but specifically _you_.....you realize that I own you, spark and all." This entire thing disgusted him, nearly as much as the quiet despair that a month ago, six months ago, he would have taken and left her at the Axalon...

She paused, hesitating, but by nature she was poor liar. Flickers, tiny sparks of electricity, memory, surged through her processor as she took in the room once more, prompting her directive programming to forefront. "I was a scientist once. I'm of little use except in the lab, though Megatron did not know this. So...I would presume I am to be an example. You are his favored warrior and more than capable of reducing me to any number of pitiful but still alive states that could be used to subdue and intimidate his less than admirable crew members."

"What kind of scientist?" He seated himself in a large chair, wings over the back side, interested despite himself. In that brief nanoclick she felt a surge of warmth towards him, and trust. Perhaps he would not destroy her after all.

"A biologist. I specialize in organic species." She paused, remembering better than to touch the tank she gestured to, "This spider is an Australian funnel-web spider...extremely toxic to primates, but almost utterly harmless to other animals. The female's venom is six times more potent than the male's..." she paused, looking down humbly after her outburst, "Which...you likely already knew..."

He was silent for several minutes, taking this in. ".....you do have intelligence, slave....you are to speak of this to no one else."

She nodded quickly, eager to please, her spark pulsing rapidly with joy. All she had know since activation on this strange world was fear, trepidation, mixed with wonder, but now perhaps she had found a kindred spirit, someone who understood her…

Poor, naïve little bot…

"Good of you not to mention this to Megatron. And you are never to leave this room unless you accompany me, and you are not to let anyone else in. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir,' she nodded quickly, then paused, her curiously overwhelming her logic circuits which told her to remain silent, "If I may ask…why would I speak of this to Megatron? My understanding is I report directly to you, and only you."

"Yes....but it is good Megatron doesn't know, that you did not give any of the information away...intelligence is not fully desired. Loyalty is." And he was loyal to Megatron now....he had no choice but to be. So many attempts with his father, always sparing his life, even risking it all by sending him that damn disc....for nothing. "Of course, as a Predacon, it is in your nature to be disloyal..."

She blinked, looking vaguely confused, "But I.." she fell silent

"Permission to speak?" She tried instead after a click of thought, deciding her interruption had been a very poor idea.

"Yes. Granted. Speak."

"My activation code is not that of a Predacon. This is why Megatron said I could not transform properly. Also, I did not tell him about my code or my former occupation because he showed no interest and never asked,' she added, a flicker of disdain crossing her green eyes in regards to Megatron's haughty dismissal of her worth and lack of curiosity. This was certainly not one her short comings because she was nothing but a bundle of curiosity and considered the need to obtain knowledge a display of higher intellect

_If not a Predacon....then....a Maximal. She wasn't reprogrammed? Hmmm. _"Come here, slave."

She obediently moved closer to him as he requested.

Ironically she was now a Maximal activated by Predacons in the claws of a Predacon activated by a Maximal, though she had no way of knowing this.

He waited until she was right upon him, nearly touching, they were so close....and his claws settled on her waist, holding her still, a mockery of a prelude to a kiss. And his claws, though not firmly pressed to her, with the threat of more pressure, perhaps enough to slice her in half, and his voice was ice. "Are you a Maximal, slave?"

The tone of his voice warned her instantly not to answer, but to refuse to do so would be even more foolish. However, at the moment, her tongue felt locked in place and she had no choice, staring up into those burning orange optics.

"Just yes or no, slave...."

"Yes," she forced out quietly, not hesitation in her voice so much as regret that she was certain this would anger him, "But I am loyal to you."

Of course, as far as the mantis knew, his father was a Maximal.....and the other Maximals, let us be honest, had never shown him mercy....he despised them, and himself for prior wanting to be with them, to stand by and with them, to fight the tyrant....and his claws pressed more to her, breaking her outer armor without hesitation; even without toxin, it was a deep pain....!

She clenched her teeth and hissed softly, her optics dimming but didn't try to pull away at first.

"A Maximal," he hissed softly. ".....I will tell you something, slave....we are at war with Maximals....no doubt they are desperately seeking your pod as it is...mmm....perhaps Megatron even knows you were not reprogrammed, and _that_ is why he gave you to me." .....other Maximals? Another crew, even her family....?

She flinched then suddenly her optics burned, "You're hurting me." Ah, a little flicker of spirit under all that submission after all.

"You are mine for that," his cold voice retorted. "....and the Maximals have certainly hurt me enough...and my comrades....but I am concerned with myself.....and vengeance, not justice. Justice would entail going after those who have hurt me...vengeance means I can take _you_ in their stead." He was trying, trying and failing to disconnect, to stop thinking of them, those damn Maximals who attacked and shot and left him for dead, and his father at the crux of them all...

"But *I* haven't hurt you. I've done nothing but what you ask, been nothing but truthful and compliant. You have no reason to punish me for something I didn't do!" Suddenly her optics glowed bright and a low powered laser beam shot out of them, not enough to do more than scorch, but enough for her to break free and back up, getting some distance between them.

Before he could move she pushed off the floor and sank her sharp clawed fingers into the ceiling, hanging upside down like a bat, crouched there, out of his reach if not out of the reach of his ion disks, "Further more, it matters little to me if other Maximals are out there looking for me. I have already stated where my loyalty lies and I do not go back on my word. Destroying me because I'm of no use to you is almost acceptable, but I will not accept punishment for a faction I don't even remember, much less serve!"

Thankfully for her, his grip on her was not deep or harsh enough to cut into her sides....unfortunately for her....he had not frozen at the optic blast, dropping instantly, his claws up and covering him, taking the brunt of the blast...but when he lowered his claws, seeing her grip the ceiling, his face had changed deeply; such rage on there made him look near insane...the calm and cool-spoken Predacon was gone.

Considering this, she thought with a growing sense of dread she should have probably tried reasoning with him first before casting the power gauntlet, but that point was probably long gone. Still being a pacifist, she tried, "Supposing you are right and Megatron did give me to you just because I'm not reprogrammed...doesn't it bother you that he finds you so predictable like a cat with a ball of yarn he can toss for his own amusement? If he wants you to destroy me, I'd say it's an insult to your intelligence to do so..."

There was no motion, no hint of his action; in one moment he was still, and the next retracting his arm, wings raised, dropping slightly....and faster nearly than she could see, the two ion discs sheared into her legs, ricocheting suddenly, boomeranging back; the slashing she could perhaps bear, but the agony that ripped through her veins and insides....it was burning her alive from the inside out...!

She gasped on a cry of agony, barely maintaining her perch. Not that there was much cover she could make out in the locked room. But if only she had tried to secure herself under a computer console instead of wasting her breath. If only she'd tried harder to reason with him instead of rebelling. True, she didn't want top be a slave, but she didn't want to die either, and now that seemed a certain outcome!

The discs arched around, back behind her....and following the arch of his furious throw, slashed her even deeper on the back-stroke, nearly severing her legs at the knees, the purple shining discs rippling back from striking her; he caught them in each claw without effort, not looking alarmed at the splash of mech blood over himself now, finally looking back to her.

For a nanoclick that seemed to stretch out for an eternity she clung to her place, her claws throbbing as they seemed ready to rip free from her fingertips. She stared at him in stunned horror.

Yet he did not seem surprised; the rage had masked itself in his optics, and he smiled at her, a terrifying smile, not because of his teeth, but the sincerity of it....and within a minute, the dual gashes on her exploded in agony, twisting and locking her arms still, the burning paralysis jetting down her body, releasing pain in her chest, around her spark, her very mind...

She blinked then her optics flickered as she lost her grasp and collapsed, not even trying to catch herself as she hit the floor.

He did not look surprised when she fell; in fact, as he approached her, he was humming, _humming_, amused as the paralysis worked its way through her, burning too much to even allow her a whimper of pain. "....you will regret this, Maximal....perhaps you do, but not for long." A new disc flipped into place in his claw, and he revved it, creating a buzz saw as he knelt down by her, smiling softly...

She blinked her green optics tired, seeming to want to reply but too weak to do so. Primus, he was going to dissect her into spare parts right here on the floor while she still lived!

The revving circular blade pressed into her bleeding legs, slashing her further...but within that pain, there was another pain, a terrible sense of darkness, of free-falling...of the pain being removed, slowly, inch by inch, and he sat back, watching her as the paralysis agent was neutralized, as her agony began to fade....dare she make a run for it, or attack him again?

Laserbeak remained as she was, seemingly drained, and then suddenly forced every ounce of remaining energy she could find left in her to her optics lasers. No holding back this time. It was a full force blast of energy

He had expected that (optic lasers, of course, he was more than used to dealing with, with his father...), and the force of his blow, his claw jamming into her chest, rolling her forcefully, released her final blast of energy to an empty wall, breaking and releasing there, and before she could move again, his claw was over her optics, and a sudden push, a terrible pressure, and then the sound of a thousand plates of glass exploding as his jagged claw cut right through her optics, shattering them, the mech blood rising and pouring over her face, leaving her near blind...

She shrieked in pain, a sound that seemed to combine with the cry of her beast mode, almost shrill enough to shatter beakers, then whimpered clawing at the appendage doing the damage but it was admittedly feeble by now. Her spark pulsated rapidly with panic.

"So brave now, are you?" Through the shattered fragments of her optics, she could barely see her captor's face....he was, incredibly, _smiling_. There seemed to be an army of him, countless leering faces looming over hers due to the cracked shards of glass. "A little adjustment for you, Maximal...and when I'm through, you will be a much better slave..." And she was lifted suddenly, off the ground, in a pool of her blood, and was slammed so forcefully against the wall, the remains of her optics broke, falling to the floor, his claws tearing into her sides as he carried her off....but perhaps Primus would be merciful and she could stasis....!

She coughed spitting up a mouthful of blood and mech fluid, whispering something inaudible.

"Speak." She was dropped suddenly, harshly against something cold.

She coughed, "You…expect me not to defend myself? I'm a slave...but not a drone."

"We will see." And a sudden hiss, cool air pressed to her and her aching wounds, and the small R within his lab quickly knocked her out...


	3. Slave to Darkness

**Darkness That Lies Within**

**Taratron and Onyxfang, 2008**

_I love the way you look at me_

_I feel the pain you place inside_

_you lock me up inside your dirty cage_

_while I'm alone inside my mind_

_I like to teach you all the rules_

_I get to see them set in stone_

_I like it when you chain me to the bed_

_but then your secrets never show_

_I need to feel you_

_you need to feel me_

_I can't control you_

_you're not the one for me no_

_I can't control you_

_you can't control me_

_I need to feel you_

_so why's there even..._

_I love the way you rake my skin_

_I feel the hate you place inside_

_I need to get your voice out of my head_

_'cause I'm that guy you'll never find_

_I think you know all of the rules_

_there's no expressions on your face_

_I hope that someday you will let me go_

_Release me from my dirty cage_

_~Puddle of Mudd, Control, 2001_

......When she woke, several hours later, it was to total darkness, and she was lying on her back, manacled at the wrist and ankle...and somehow unable to speak. She blinked her optics in confusion.

Not that it helped. Was she still blind or was it really this dark?

Total darkness, as if her optics were still shattered, though they felt whole, and the pressure around her neck abated suddenly, leaving her able to gasp, but it still felt as though a tight noose were around her vocalizer...and _his_ voice, so soft. "Hello, slave..."

She grimaced, trying to sit up. She couldn't be blind…she was defenseless if she was blind! Unable to vocalize a response, her clawed hands dug in against the surface she was laying on

"You _can_ speak." And indeed she could, but each word felt as though it were being forced from her throat. "Now speak before I remove your vocalizer for good."

"Why can't I see?" she forced out

"Because I haven't let you yet....and if you do not address me properly, slave, I _will_ remove your optics permanently. Try again."

A little flicker of suicidal spirit flared in her and she almost called him something very undesirable, but instead replied, forcing it out, "Yes…Master."

"Good girl." And the blinders on her optics were removed; she could see! .....she was in a back room of his lab, manacled to a dissection table, the mantis standing off to the side, looking pleased. "I will tell you this, slave....from here on out, you will never speak unless I let you, and never see unless I allow it....if you anger me again, I _will_ make you a drone."

She nodded slowly, "I understand."

He looked at her for a moment....and then the world turned black again, her throat too tight to even gasp out of; she could barely breathe! .....for nearly a minute she was held suspended, and then finally her throat opened, her vision still locked.

"....try again, slave...."

"I understand, Master,' she said quietly, a note of panic making of voice tremble.

"That is your last warning," he said softly, so much closer to her now, and one claw rested over her chest, as if he were feeling her over.... "Do you know what your purpose is, slave, other than to obey me?"

She flinched and swallowed hard, "No, Master."

Yet his claw was gentle over her chest, feeling around her....surely he did not mean _that_? To spark-meld with her? "I know why Megatron gave me you, slave....there is little satisfaction in Darkside, and only the widow here....so you are to satisfy me fully, as my slave...."

Laserbeak recoiled instinctively in horror, her green optics wide. She felt a blaze of revulsion and hatred course through her spark but held her tongue.

She could still not see him, nor fully pull away, so tight were her restraints, and his claw did not leave her, exploring over her breastplate still. To force such a close act, something that could result in children (though not all the time, of course)....would he _dare_?

Momentary doubt was followed by certainty and she hated him all the more for it. She felt more furious than she ever had in her entire life. Maybe she truly was becoming a Predacon because all she felt were dark emotions and thoughts of if she did ever get out of this there would definitely being some vengeance seeking

Yet her voice was free.....screaming at him would never spare her, but perhaps she could persuade him otherwise?

She swallowed hard, "That would be beneath your integrity to do such a thing, Master…"

"Why is that, slave?" His voice was darker, and closer, nearly at her audio! ....and though she was chained down still, she could barely feel him, so close to her side. "It has been a very long time since I've had a female, and _you_ I can have as often as I want...mmm....even share you with the other flyers if I so choose."

She felt sick as her spark churned, "Because you're better than that..' she whispered, looking up at him pleadingly. Still unable to see, following his voice. She could easily picture the cold look of fury she'd last seen on his features and she shuddered.

There was a soft click as her manacles shifted, forcing her to her side, pressed against his warm form, her hands cuffed between them. "No, slave, I'm not....I'm truly not....perhaps once I was, but _now_....ah, now I am a Predacon through and through..."

Was there something there? In his voice? Certainly not in his hellish red gaze, but before when he'd seemed interested in her past life, in what she could remember, she had felt that there was something, just the fainted flicker of something good in him. Maybe he felt just the least bit of regret for hurting her. For scaring her so badly.

"Can I at least see you?"

She paused then added demurely, resignedly, "Master?"

He was silent for a moment, and suddenly the blinders were gone; he was so close to her she might have screamed anyway, their bodies inches apart, his face close to hers, those terrible and hate-filled optics on hers, piercing.

She bit back a whimper of fear and forced herself to stare into them, looking for that flicker, that faintest little bit of good she'd sensed in him before buried deep under all his hatred.

He had seemed to be different before, before her attack...interested in her words, not dominant, but that flicker, that spark, was gone from his face fully, and he grinned, three rows of sharp white teeth before her. How could she....could she even escape this fate?

She shivered, then murmured, "Something terrible must have happened to you to make this way...something I couldn't even begin to imagine."

"Speak again like so, slave, and I will tear out your vocalizer for you." One of his wings folded over her, drawing her closer...

She swallowed hard, "Please don't..Master. I didn't mean to offend you…"

"Mmm....what is your name, slave?" Oh, a loaded question....!

She hesitated, trying to think over how he'd want her to respond, "I have no name unless you allow me to have one and I answer only to Slave, master…"

His smile was still dark, though....he seemed very pleased. "Good, slave, very pleasing...." One claw trailed down her side, feeling over her...and her own hands, of course, were pinioned between them. No chance for escape, or even to try and push away....

She bit down on her bottom lip, her hands turned out, unable to push away but pressed against his abdomen, trying to keep from getting closer. He opened her chest plate to expose her spark and she felt more vulnerable than ever. If only she hadn't attacked him! If only she could take it back, she would, she would…

"What is your purpose, slave?"

"To do as you command, Master.."

"And if I pass you to the flyers with the order to meld with them, and do as they say....?"

She paused, "Do you wish me to be honest, Master?"

"If it would please me."

"Then its best I hold my tongue."

"Very good, slave....you will speak only to please me....but for now, let me hear your honest words."

Her paused, her gaze darkening, "I would claw their optics out."

"Mmm. Why?"

"The way they looked at me..It made me sick..." she whispered, feeling her beast mode stomach tucked away inside her seem to roll at the prospect. If she could keep him talking, change the subject, perhaps..

"The way I look at you is different, slave?" Well, there had been mercy in his optics before...

She paused, "Yes..It was. You spoke to me."

"And?"

She paused, trying to put this into words, words that would earn his sympathy if he had any to give, "There was something about you…that was different from them. Better. I wasn't afraid to follow you. Until I made you angry by being a Maximal. Then you frightened me, but I shouldn't have fought back. I apologize, Master..."

"As you should, slave....but if I ever give you to them for their pleasure, you will obey me and please them fully." He could not mean that....!

She bit back a response but it broke free anyway.

"I'd rather die," she replied coldly, her optics bright gleaming with anger.

"Would you now?" Something blazed in his optics, just as it had when he had lashed out at her...that raw and pure anger....!

She almost flinched but locked optics with him defiantly, "Yes."

"Then I know to keep you blind and mute when I give to you them." .....and that was _mercy_?

"You may as well put me in stasis too. Even blind and mute I'd fight," she replied coldly

"Oh, I imagine that will turn them on more, slave....perhaps I should take you there when I am done." That burning in his optics....he was furious at her for her rejection to obey...

She jerked at her chains as hard as she could, hoping for a little give.

One claw pressed to her back, inching her closer to him. "Last words, slave?"

Suddenly a last desperate ploy popped in her head and threw herself against him, her optics dimmed her head bowed demurely, "Don't send me away to them, master. I belong to you, only to you…" Well defiance hadn't worked.

The claw at her back pulled her from him; she would find no comfort on him. "_If it is my will, spark, will you obey?_"

She bit her lip. Yes or no. Say yes and lie or say no and suffer? Either way he'd do what he willed and she would fight to her last breath. "No."

Those optics, burning into hers with a new hatred now, and the claw at her back trembled, the disc within slowly revving up, as if he meant to slice her from behind!

She bit her lip, swallowing hard, her green optics bright with fear. She didn't want to die! She didn't want to be reduced to scrap or reprogrammed, where was the honor in that? What good did her defiance, her pride, do her if she was permanently offline? Already she imagined she could feel his blades slicing her apart..

"..Yes.." she whispered in a voice so small even the finest tuned audio sensors could hardly pick it up.

"Yes what?" So close, those terrible and hate-filled optics so close to her...

"Yes…I'll do whatever you order me to, Master…" she whispered softly, her green eyes dimming as some of the fire died in them.

He growled softly, pleased. "Good....now move closer to me, slave...close the gap." His smile was terrifying; he was enjoying her fear. And to make her make the final move for this intimacy...! His voice dropped, a dark hiss. "Come, slave....act as you must....show no fear....you _want_ this...take me, slave, and please me...."

She fought down the urge to jerk away and moved closer to him obediently, not meeting his optics.

Yet he did not move; she would have to press fully to him, for their sparks to interact, his optics narrowed at her...

She almost winced as her body pressed against his entirely, her optics dim, and her head down. Her hands tensed, wanting to tighten into fists. She had not seen him expose his own spark. Perhaps he would not go through with it after all. Nothing but thoughts of escaping this shame, this horror, filled her mind.

Yet he barely kept a claw on her side, trusting her want to live stronger than her fear and revulsion, and for a moment it seemed nothing was happening...and then a spear against her spark, a jagged hint of his presence, against her spark, and she was powerless to stop, unless she broke away.

She tensed but her survival instinct told her to flinch and draw back would be her last mistake.

Well, drawing back or attempted escape would be! And her master hissed darkly; she might be too afraid to feel any pleasure, at this forced act, but if nothing else, she was pleasing him. His optics were dim, and one arm held her tighter against him, his spark pulsating with hers; perhaps if she closed her optics and merely felt, it would be bearable?

She wondered if she could just block it out, shut it out of her mind. Her optics flickered off and she lay still, trying to ignore the sensations as they grew stronger.

But so hard to ignore, such strong sensations, such deep pleasure building, the feel of another's spark meshing so well with hers, and her master growled softly, biting onto her shoulder, holding on further....one could not say she disobeyed!

She whimpered. Her hands tensed and her claws dug into her palms. It was like he was smoke, swirling through her mind and soul, invading everything that had ever been private. And yet there was sweetness to the sensation, her body betraying her.

"How does it feel, slave?" he hissed. "Answer me honestly....not merely what I want to hear..."

"Different.." she whispered, stunned, a little dazed, "I've never.." she shuddered as her spark pulsed sharply, on the verge of a pleasurable overload.

"No pain?"

"No...no pain.."

"Pity," he breathed softly. ".....I can remedy that...." And he flipped them suddenly, pinning her on her back, forcing her against the hard table, and on her, claws digging in to her side as gravity helped, pressing and pushing his spark almost painfully deeper with and into hers, his growling louder, and as he moved them, his claws struck and broke her bonds, leaving her hands free!

She winced then gasped, pressing her face against the side of his neck, in pain but it seemed to only deepen the intensity of the experience

Laserbeak flexed her wrists, dimly surprised at their freedom, but if any idea of grabbing for a weapon or shoving him away clicked in her mind she recognized them as suicide. She hesitated to move at all then slowly slid her hands up and traced her fingers exploringly over the fine membranes of his purple wings.

His wings lashed away (he did not trust anyone with such fine things) from her; he seemed not quite lost in the pleasure, growling softly, and biting down, leaving dents and small punctures on her shoulders...and in the next moment it was over, and he had rolled to his side, optics dim....she had survived. So far.

She blinked dimly, shuddering, her beast mode's instinct powerfully compelling her to revert to the more primitive form and wrap her wings around her in a fetalish position as a newborn pterosaur would within an eggshell but she was afraid to move. With the pleasurable sensation fading a wave of revulsion for what had happened and even towards herself flooded her and her optics flickered off.

She had no way of knowing, of course, but had she come upon him a year ago, none of this would have happened...of course, a year ago he had still had hope; even a few months ago he would not have touched her, but his creator's rejection, even with the truth presented, had left him with little other choice...if he was to be a true Predacon, he would take the part fully, and no longer act it with hope of rescue. And he reached out with a claw, suddenly and forcefully knocking her off the table, clattering to the floor, and he sat up, looking down on her with such cold optics.

She flinched, swallowing hard, then felt a shock of black hatred in her spark. Was this what it felt like to be a Predacon, to have the only flicker of trust she could remember betrayed, to feel this overwhelming need to lash out at those that had hurt her? She shook her head sharply, sickened with herself. She would not be like this. This was not her. ~If Trailblazer were here...~ She paused, blinking in confusion, unsure of where that thought had come from. The name was both achingly familiar and alien to her. But she could remember nothing else about it

"You've proven untrustworthy, slave....get up." And he slid from the table, so much larger than her, and stepped out of the small side room; they were back in his main lab, and he led her past there, down another shaft, to a small side room, a storage room, it appeared, and on the floor, off to the side, was a very large barred cage, large enough for a bot her size to stand in, but small enough that walking a few feet either way was the extent of activity....he meant for her to go in _there_?

She flinched, her optics darting away to the objects in the store room, half hoping if she pretended not to notice the cage he would change his mind. Her eyes lighted one a few old artifacts, HUMAN artifacts, the property of the previous owner of the ship before it was stolen no doubt and now left here to rot as they held little interest to Predacons. These objects were small, dusty, thick rectangles of paper and binding and for a moment she ached to touch them, but she remembered her order to touch nothing.

"In," he said shortly, and with a few whisks of his wings, waved aside several of the bound paper books, that her cage was within reach of nothing. "If you disobey, slave, I'll leave you chained to the table instead."

She blinked then nodded sitting in the cage and looking at the books with frustrated longing, "I understand, Master."

"Good." And he closed the door, setting the computerized lock, and left....returning a few moments later with a small box that barely fit in the bars of her cage. "I'm going to be busy...if you distract me, you'll be blind and mute again." And he turned, abruptly leaving her alone.

She blinked then sat alone for a long time, staring at the cage floor. After a moment she slowly, carefully with the tip of one claw, scratched the name into the bottom of the cage. Trailblazer. She frowned, staring at it intently then her optics flicked off. In the back of her memory circuits something sparked to life. The faintest whisper of a deep, amused voice murmuring another name. "Starfire…" Her optics blazed back on and she scratched this name below the first, staring at the two names for a long time in silent contemplation.

When she dared to open the box, she found it unlocked and non-trapped; it held a few disks, small logs of the war thus far, profiles of the factions, and several small rations of energon; true to his word, the mantis kept busy throughout the day, out of her sight, not her mind, working away as he had for the past month; he no longer solely modified his own weapons, but those of the entire crew, as well as making toxins for the offense as well....


	4. Secrets Divulged

**Darkness That Lies Within**

**Taratron and Onyxfang, 2009**

_Is there anything that can make you happy?_

_I don't know what to say to make it better_

_Seeing you like this down and hurt so badly when you have been so kept together_

_What's this_

_All this time I thought you didn't need me_

_Now I've gone from you and now you tell me_

_You were nonchalant, strong and unaffected and you never wanted me to be there_

_I never saw your heart that's how close you kept it_

_So right now I'm so unsure how to care_

_what's this?_

_No attention was given_

_no affection from you to heal the hurt_

_I was hoping_

_I was wishing just to listen and to hear those words._

_~Jordan Sparks, Now You Tell Me, 2007_

_Note: Slash warning. Nothign too graphic. But if any slash indication makes you nervous, you may want to skip this chapter._

***

During the day, the Axalon was not very bustling; with a small crew, you could never call the ship busy, but most of the crew was on a diurnal schedule, the patrollers largely awake for nocturnal scouting. And it was for some unfortunate reason that Dinobot had internal security watch shortly after sunset; the rest of the crew had thankfully retired, leaving him to watch the map and grid of surrounding areas.

On most any other night, any night previous to a little over two months ago, he would have been mindlessly bored with such a task, but for now he was silent, forcing himself to concentrate on the grid, empty of Predacon signatures, rather than his usual brooding. He was rather certain he had not been acting any differently lately, in the past month, and surely Primal was relieved at the lack of arguments with the rat now; Dinobot no longer found pleasure in baiting the fool...for now, another night on watch. A good thing, at least, since he had not been sleeping well, since the arrival of that disk from Darkside...and the mantis' disappearance shortly after that...

"Heh...if I didn't know ya better, I'd say you were deep in thought…but that's impossibility with yer processor..." a familiar voice jeered from behind him.

The raptor did not even growl back; he had been avoiding the rat for some time now (and amazingly enough, he still functioned, and the base was not in shambles either) and had no want to verbally spar with the disgusting rodent. It was enough that he grieved, and privately so, and secretly so if the truth be known; he had gone through great pains to insure the mantis never came close to speaking the truth to any Maximal, and now with his death, what should have been relief was instead a dull dread that never seemed to fade. "....shouldn't you be doing something useful, mouse?"

Rattrap blinked his oil-bright black beast mode eyes uneasily when Dinobot refused to take the bait and tried another insult, this time directed at himself, certain the raptor wouldn't be able to resist responding, "Eh, do I ever do anythin' much useful?" He had to be desperate if he was mocking himself in hopes of snapping the raptor out of it.

Then again, the raptor rarely paid much attention to his crew; it was very likely they _had_ noticed the changes in him, but one did not just ask Dinobot what was bothering him.... A snorted laugh, brief. "For once you estimate your abilities correctly, Vermin....since you have sentry duty after my shift, shouldn't you be recharging?"

Hearing Dinobot laugh was almost as unnerving as how weak and nonexistent his digs were. The rat tilted his head then transformed to bot mode," Done...besides, this is da only time the base is quiet enough fer a 'bot ta hear himself think. Heck, I'd be entirely nocturnal just ta avoid the kitty cat if Banana Bot wouldn't throw a hissy fit..."

He growled softly in irritation. "I am watching the security grid, rodent...go think of your molding food someplace else."

Of course he had done the exact wrong thing as Rattrap perked up at the growl, taking it as a sign of normalcy in the way they related to each other and was starting to grin. "Food? Nah. I'm more interested in beattin' my high score. Besides, there ain't nothin' on the grid anyway. Hasn't been fer like a deca-cycle. I'm starting ta figure all the Preds slagged each other and are rusting in pieces on that scrap pile they call a ship. Good riddance too."

The rat certainly knew how to push his buttons...of course, Dinobot would have gladly, even still, _especially_ still, destroyed the lot of that mangy crew, save for the one he had not seen in over a month. Perhaps Megatron had finally destroyed him, or one of his toxins had, or any number of 'accidents' that could befall a Predacon who was not always a step ahead of Tarantulas... "Rodent, I want silence in here, and if I must slash your vocalizer from you, so be it."

" Heh, big talk fer a bot dat sits mopin' in his quarters all day er whatever...." he smirked then reached over and switched the screen from the grid monitor mode to some sort of childish battle simulation, obviously of the rat's design. It looked like the Darkside, and of course having been inside it for a number of cycles at one point, Rattrap knew pretty well what it looked like.

The raptor closed the game instantly, a warning glare in his optic. "Rodent, this is your last warning...." Finally! Finally some anger from the old stinking lizard!

"Yer _warnin' _me?" he snorted," Well bring it on, Chopperface. Please. Give me a sign there's some little bit of da ole scalebelly left in you, not just this whiney, meek, pathetic overgrown iguana skulking around da ship. Until then, ya can kiss my skidplates and don't let da door hit ya on the way out..." he plopped in a seat, his arms behind his head, feet up on the console.

It was more frustration that moved him, the fact that if the rat had noticed, then _everyone_ had...then everyone knew something was wrong, even if they were smart enough not to question him...and inner self-rage that he had become so weak that the Maximals had _seen_. Rage, a dark and furious wrath, boiled over in his optics. Of course they were weak, they were _Maximals_, but hypocrites that he had always known, deep down, they were, they despised _him_ for showing weakness as well, for grieving over an enemy's death, an enemy they knew of (and he had known) so briefly and without comprehension...a Maximal who had been reprogrammed by an idiot raptor, who had discovered the truth too late...and he rose suddenly, towering behind the rat, and seized the smaller bot by the back of his neck, his talons digging in as he hauled him from the chair, half turning, and with a flick of his wrist, sent the rat flying, crashing half against the wall, half into the hallway. "_I said silence, rat!"_

Rattrap blinked in shock, stunned, his optics flickering on and off as he stared at the raptor in a mixture of confusion and what almost felt like betrayal. Sure, they got touchy, even threatened each other physically but Dinobot had never **ACTED** on it before with such ferocity. For a moment Rattrap was actually speechless before he blurted out, "What in da Pit's wrong wit you!?!" He honestly had no clue the anguish his friend...using the term loosely...was going through. For all he could tell he'd just snapped and gone nuts.

Yet there was no sign of weakness, none of the poker face he usually wore, and certainly none of the past months of almost angry, empty expression on his face now. "_Leave me be, rodent, or no one will find your stinking corpse_!" Much more like the old Dinobot, but in this case, something dangerous flickered in his optics, as if, for once, he meant the threat.

He blinked, wincing as he felt the dents from hitting the wall, feeling much to his own surprise a hint of real concern, "Hey, I was just kiddin' around, ya know? I didn't mean..."

Silence from the raptor, but his optics began to glow....whatever had been bothering him, apparently it no longer did, if his old self was back...along those lines, however, the rat might want to bolt!

He blinked then got to his feet and scrambled down the corridor, glancing over his shoulder.

He was not followed; in fact, after a moment, the raptor turned and sat back down, optics on the reopened grid, silent. Damn the rodent, damn all the Maximals....who knew what they suspected, but he doubted it was anywhere near the truth. And he continued to watch the grid, keeping an optic on the night patrollers, waiting for his shift to end, if the rat dared show himself...

***

Indeed, Rattrap didn't dare show himself till the end of Dinobot's shift, and even then he said nothing, astonishing for him as he moved into the room as silently as a mouse ready to bolt. This was stupid, he thought suddenly. No way was he gonna let Chopperface know he had him cowed. He cleared his throat then reached over and put a container, rather like a bottle only made of metal, on the console, hesitating before he spoke, "I figured you seemed like you could...uh...use dat more than me.." For some unknown reason, he didn't add. Maybe the raptor had just lost it. Half the Preds seemed crazy as it was, so it shouldn't have been so shocking.

The bottle was a high-grade plutonium, one of Rattrap's "essentials", as he had stated when he'd brought a case onboard prior to the Axalon's departure from Cybertron. After over a year on this dust ball of a planet the case was down to about two bottles, some of the only reserves still remaining from the initial storage.

It was the old Dinobot, the growling, snarling, threatening raptor who glared back at him, suspicious. "I don't need any of your drinks, rodent. I'm fine." He did look a lot better...

"Okay, whatever…" he said, sounding unconvinced as he slid the bottle back over towards himself.

The ex-Pred rose, barely glancing at the smaller Maximal as he left, not for the hallway to the quarters area of the ship, but to the lift, heading outside, and within moments, the beastmoded warrior stalked off into the night. ....of course, no one could recover from whatever had plagued the raptor so swiftly...he was merely hiding what the matter was now. And nor would he drink anything from the rat....of course, if he didn't know Rattrap had tampered with it...like his room's personal energon dispenser....IF the rat dared to go that far...

"Ya need somethin' that's fer sure...' he raised an optic arch. Would he REALLY dare go that far? Normally, no way. But the more he thought about it, the more he was certain there was something off with the raptor's programming. And Dinobot had way too much pride to admit that and go see Rhinox about it...until it was too late and he ripped them all to slag in their sleep…Rattrap gulped. Well...when you put it that way...

On the other hand, if the raptor ever found out he had been drugged, or slipped strong enough plutonium, or other hard drink, to lose control.....even the Darkside might not be a far enough place to hide. Of course, he had left the base...if there was a time to strike, it'd be now.

"Just a little nudge ta get his circuits checked out...no harm done…right?" he laughed nervously, eyeing the bottle, then snatched it up and headed down the hall.

He fished out his lock picking kit to bypass any securities the former Predacon may have had his roomed sealed off with. Then again if he'd booby-trapped it...Rattrap gulped again then finished bypassing the security code on the door before he could change his mind.

The room inside was nothing he really been able to look into before; the raptor was skilled at finding spy cameras and destroying them, or dropping them down the garbage compactor. But unlike the rat's room, this was Spartan, almost empty. There were no little projects set up, no posters or decoration on the walls, save for a stretched raptor skin (rather creepy, considering his beastmode), merely a sword rack on the far wall, the room's main computer with a blank monitor screen, asking for a password, a bunk set into the wall slightly, and under it, a rough nest of sticks and bedding for a sleepy raptor, when the need to sleep in beastmode struck. But even that was neat, almost perfectly round...and the only other thing in the room was a very small shard of purple metal on the side table near his bunk. A very neat and ordered room...no wonder he found every spy camera.

Rattrap blinked, his optics drawn to the purple shard. For some reason it sent a chill through him. His beast mode's instinctive curiosity made his hand hover over it a minute, but no way, with this clean a room the raptor would definitely notice anything missing. As it was he felt like he was being watched. He snapped the cap off the bottle and crossed to the energon dispenser. Dump a little in, get out. That sounded like the best plan. This room gave him the creeps.

He resisted the urge to whistle as he opened the dispenser and dumped in a good dose of the strong alcohol, sniffed thoughtfully with his keen sensors, then shrugged and dumped in a little more. Better safe than sorry. Maximals and Predacons were like any other living being…they required a fluid, a fuel, to function and survive. Thus each Maximal on the Axalon had his dispenser which dissolved stabilized energon crystals into a liquid state. While their beast modes required solid food and supplements of water, their bot forms equally required sustenance to keep functioning.

This one was a nice, gleaming dispenser, used apparently, but like almost everything else in the room, mostly untouched, as if the raptor was renting a room, rather than permanently staying. The purple shard gleamed dully, but in the light, it still radiated sharpness. Very odd, considering a lack of any other personal good, other than swords, in the room, and it was impossible to tell what it had come from. The deed done, now he had to escape....of course, if the raptor did get tipsy from this, there was a good chance he'd speak, if he was a friendly drunk....otherwise the rat would be wiser to lock him in his quarters till it wore off.

He took a sip from the bottle himself, liquid courage and what not, better than none at all. Then he backed out of the room, yelping when he stumbled into something scaly and whirling the face the skin hung on the wall. Primus, that gave him the willies!

***

A few hours later (did the rat count them?) the lift opened, the raptor not even looking into the main control room, simply stalked to his room, muttering to himself about the weather. Damn springtime and its pollen...he could barely smell anything now!

Rattrap sat tensed at the console, actually watching the grid, but his audio sensor's intently tuned incase the raptor gave him any warning before he attacked him if he decided to...His hand shook a little as he took another drink, warming his power core as he fidgeted guiltily.

Yet the raptor transformed in the hallway, locking his quarters door behind him (time to see how good his lock picking had become!), and the ship was silent....In his quarters, Dinobot growled softly; the walk had done little to improve his mood, but had at least stimulated his appetite, and he drank two glasses of energon before he noticed the slight off taste, but put it down to his damaged and recovering sense of smell....Primus damn pollen and flowers in general!

"Huh..." Rattrap waited and waited, then suddenly smirked, "I am good..." he leaned back and kicked a key on the console, bringing up a personal playlist he'd stored in Sentinel. Rattrap was by far more a fan of Human music if truth be told. Transformer music was nothing but a combination of sounds, mostly harsh, metallic ones, and no lyrics. Not that he'd admit to anyone he had any interests but explosives, but he had inherited a like for the sound of music from his Great Aunt Arcee and since he was the only one up, he felt like indulging himself for his cleverness at getting away with his scheme undetected.

Three more glasses later and the warrior was sated....though his head was definitely feeling strange, and sitting on his bunk didn't make the room slow down. The raptor had never even been a social drinker, and inhaling a good portion of pure plutonium was hitting him hard, all the harsher as he had begun to suspect something was wrong with his energon by the time the drunkenness hit...would the rat dare check on him?

By the time he'd gotten half way through the third replay of Helter Skelter he was a little unnerved. Surely there should have been some reaction? Maybe he'd just passed out in his quarters...that could be...

He unplugged the cord connecting his audio circuits to the console and listened closely. Nada. Damn, if Optimus found Dinobot passed out from plutonium, who was going to take the heat? Rattrap, of course! From more than one source, and Rattrap was far from keen on having his tail bent out of shape, or far worse, bitten off, if he was fingered as the perp. He got up and crept down the hall.

Silence from the raptor's room, and when he managed to get the door open, and peek inside, the raptor was, thankfully, on his stomach, on his bunk, looking rather passed out, and still....very very still...and the room reeked heavily of Rattrap's favorite drink.

"What the slag? Did he drink da whole container??" he whispered to himself. He squinted at the dispenser, trying to see how full it was.

He had taken down....half of it? Sweet Primus, on an empty stomach....of course, that might explain why he was so still....was the raptor even breathing?

He felt a jolt. Geeze, he couldn't have KILLED HIM! Then again, Rattrap was used to drinking a fourth of a bottle and had downed half in his nervousness about being found out. Dinobot, as far as he knew, had NO tolerance...great. He slid into the room, staying out of reach of the raptor.

The bot did not move, his optics off, face slack as if asleep....but there was no motion at all.

"One glass before bedtime, just one…anyone normal woulda drunken just one, maybe two, but not you, nooooooo" he half hissed under his breath as he moved warily closer.

Of course, Dinobot was a larger bot...and who knew how often he took in energon? He was hardly a social drinker either...still nothing, no movement, no hint he was even alive...

He hesitated then reached out and poked him, ready have his arm ripped off

Nothing. No reaction; and perhaps it was the room, or merely his worry of being found out, but the warrior was cold to the touch...

The fact that he hadn't lost an arm was actually worse than if he had. It made his core and spark turn cold as he gulped then reached out and grabbed the other bot's shoulder, shaking him, "Hey...HEY!"

Still nothing, no movement, no indication of breathing (of course, he was merely breathing very very shallowly).....was he really dead?

"Chopperface....Dinobot, snap out of it!"He shook his harder, on her verge of panic

He was certain by now, in an unreal way. Positive. Not only had the Maximals lost their best warrior and were now completely outnumbered, but he had killed him. He was worse than Megatron or Tarantulas or perhaps any of the Preds individually or combined because he had stupidly, unwittingly, killed a comrade, a fellow Maximal, a friend even. Rattrap felt violently ill from the concept and yet he couldn't deny it.

A low sound, almost a faint growl, escaped the warrior, as if moving the body had produced a death keel....and suddenly he was half sitting up, leaning against the wall, looking half dead still, though his optics were faint, and his speech slurred. "....think....something wrong....with my energon....dissssspensssor..."

He blinked, his optics brightening and he almost hugged him, "Geeze, I thought ya were dead!"

Dinobot looked at him, optics not focused, and shook his head, trying to clear it. No, he wasn't dead, thank Primus!....just very very drunk. "....vermin....fix it...isss...very strong..."

He stifled a snorted laugh of amusement and relief. This was definitely a whole new side of the raptor. "Uh, yeah I'll get right no that. No problem...you know…maybe you should lie down till ya feel a little better..."

"No...I'm fine." But he was leaning against the wall for balance, trying to focus still on the Maximal. "....you try some....see?"

"Nah, that's okay, I don't need.." he paused, realizing this would raise suspicion if he refused and sighed, taking a disposable drink container from the side of the dispenser and filling it, then taking a sip. To him, of course, it tasted watered down and not nearly so bothersome. He paused then took another drink, playing his part, "Yeah it is a little off..."

"Well, fix it, cheesssebreath....it'sss all we keep you around for." A low half growl, but the raptor was very very toasted. He was no real threat.

He snickered, shaking his head, "Thought it was for my charming personality..."

"Pssssh," growled the raptor. "Asss......as....as....much as the spidererer....no....no....he hassss more than you, cheessssebreath....get to work...."

He snorted then took another drink, finishing off the first glass then taking another to empty it out. "You know…yer almost funny like this..."

"Pssssh....thissss is your fault....damn Maximal machinery....can't make nothing rrrrrright...."

"Can't make nothin' right? Wow, even yer holy than thou vocab's gone down hill!" he snickered gleefully tossing back a second glass of the water

The warrior snorted, optics dim. ".....weak....weak usssselesss Maximal con....contraptions....stassisss pods crashing....worthlesssss transssport..."

"Now yer just bein' cranky, it ain't all that bad…besides we wouldn't be in this mess if it weren't fer you Preds,' he added sharply.

"Wouldn't be in thisss messs if Megatron knew how to read a map." There was still some slur in his voice, but with his optics off, he seemed able to concentrate more. "....or High Command....ssss....private essssexutions...."

"NO. We wouldn't be in this mess if YOU PREDS hadn't stolen that stupid disc! Yer all just a bunch of backstabbing boltbrains...shooting us down, stealing our pods, making overgrown pyromaniac ants and glitchy she-spiders and.." he paused and broke off what he'd been about to say

A low hiss from the warrior, though he seemed almost furious. "....no....if you....damn Maximals....weak little passssssifists thought more like Predaconsss....we wouldn't be in thisss insane war....ssstupid ssstupid Maximalsss and your damn High Command..."

He blinked, taken aback by his fury, then narrowed his optics, "If we thought more like you we'd have all killed each other off years ago 'cause the war woulda consumed all of Cybertron!"

"What's got yer gears in a grind all of a sudden anyway?? This war's been goin' on fer over a year now and all of a sudden yer all hot under da collar to blame us!"

"You assssked." Dim lights in the ex-Predacon's optics. Of course, the heavy drink had loosened his tongue... "....no....thought like Predaconssss....quessstioned authority....no...Maxi....Maximalsss blindly obey ordersss....take prissssoners in peacetime...no one countssss misssss....misssssing Predaconssss if the police forsssse is Maximal..."

He blinked, bewildered, "Wat da slag are you goin' on about now??"

"Sssstupid Maximalsss.....tell me....Ratface....where did you live, sss? Nice ssssub....place of Iacon? Not too many Predaconssss there...."

He blinked uncertainly, "Not exactly da subburbs..."

"Downtown?" A dark look from the drunken warrior. "No Pred.....Predacon sssscum there either...esssscorted out if any dared to sssstay too long..."

"Yeah...downtown...the low income district," he bristled a little as if Dinobot was going to make something of that.

"No Predacon ssscum there either, Ratface....or did you notissssse neighborsss much? No....no Predaconssss anywhere in Iacon....or Polyhessssssss.....or Cry.....Cryssssstal Citiesss either....too....too busssy with your femmesssss to notisse?"

He glared, "I noticed…since ya asked, its parta da reason we moved there when I was about Cheetor's age..." he trailed off, a little unsteady as the drink started to affect him but not ready to share quite that much yet.

"Of coursssee....nisssss....nisssssce neighborhood, no Predaconssss....all living....outside the cities....gone in many....sssss....areassss entirely....being weed...weeeeeded out....forced relosssscation...." A rough sound, like a laugh. "....High Command notissssed....stupid Maximals did not..."

He glared at him darkly, then turned back to cleaning out the dispensor, "Get ta da point..."

"...eventually....off Cybertron entire.....sssss.....sssstupid Maximalsss never quesssioned...only obey orders....High Command ssssaysss, move them to sub-Iacon....then out of Iacon....then off the sssssector grid....ssssome Predssss saw....the writing on the wallssss....left before forced reloc...locationsssss were in law....voted in by sssstupid Maximalssss."

He blinked uncertainly," So uh…where did they go then?" he asked uncertainly.

"Doesss.....doess it matter?" The warrior leaned more against the wall, supporting himself. "Megatron.....saw the writing.....found dissssentorss...ssssmall rebellion...found out too sssoon....very busssy newssss day.......dozensss executed...." Something that the rat might have heard of, just another passing news blip of some Predacon terrorists who resisted arrest and were killed in the attempt of arrest...

He hesitated then nodded, remaining silent for the former Predacon to continue.

"Ssstupid Maximals," he growled again. "....alwaysss....alwaysss obeying orderssss....nothing is my fault.....obeying ordersss....Megatron takesss the disssc...find energon ressserves...raise an army....retake the Homeworld....reloc....relocate High Command and stupid....sssssssstupid was only obeying orders Maximals....and gets us losssssst."

He smirked weakly, "Sounds like ole' Grapeface.."

"Sssstupid Maximals....." But even drunk, he would never reveal the true plot of Megatron: to undo time, to rewrite history, to give their ancestors the edge to win....to declare the past few centuries of loss and suppression and brooding extinction gone. "....wouldn't be in thiss messss if Maximalssss questioned orders....instead of....sssssshooting unarmed civiliansss..."

"Unarmed?? You're soldiers, renegade soldiers, our crew was just made up a' scientists and explorers!"

"...they didn't sssshoot usss, Vermin....or we wouldn't be here...." Then others, real civilians, families and unarmed Predacons just trying to make a living in Iacon and elsewhere...

He blinked,"Yeah well…" He stammered for a response as the truth sank in and his optics dimmed slightly, some of his strongest beliefs crushed.

"Yessss....well.....nothing." The warrior hissed darkly, his voice, oddly, for once mimicking. "Only following ordersss....wassss only following ordersss...." His voice returned to normal. ".....sssstupid Maximals can't......can't even make energon run prop...pop....properly.....and sssssssstassissss podss burn up on impact with air...."

"Ya keep goin' back ta dat..." he commented, getting a sneaking suspicion, then added casually, "Ya know...da way ya talk, it's like ya aren't even part of dis crew or don't wanna be...like maybe yer feelin' a little homesick fer yer old buddies...except you HATE them, er that's what you always said..but ya ain't never even settled in here. Dis room looks like before ya moved in all except for uh..." he nodded to the swords,"Those..." he glanced at the raptor skin,"Dat..which ...ew? Morbid much?"

"Pssss.....catch of the day, vermin....no....no loyalty to Megatron....idiot....idiot....disssshonorable plansss now....have no part of that...."

"Oh an uh...there's one other thing..."He added, feeling rather warmed and confident from the effects of the plutonium, getting unsteadily to his feet and wobbling over to the desk, picking up the purple shard, "Dis. Ain't exactly yer color...but I don't recall seein' it around before.."

Thankfully for the rat, the alcohol numbed the pain as the shard slid, cutting into his hand easily, breaking the weak armor as easily as a knife through air, the drunken warrior not even noticing, slumping over to lie on his bunk.

He blinked as a few drops of mech fluid and organic blood dripped on the floor. Why did that seem so familiar somehow? He held the shard up closer to his face, ignoring the distant pain.

The shard slipped further, dropping from his hand, nearly shearing off a finger at the base, clicking neatly on the floor, the warrior unresponsive, even to the gushing blood and mech fluid now puddling at the rat's feet.

He blinked, an alarm going off back somewhere in the conscious part of his mind as he opened the subspace compartment on his arm and took out a small med kit, wrapping his hand. Just like the raptor to keep something around that would slice into anyone curious enough to pick it up.

"Passss me a glass," growled the warrior suddenly. ".....you better not....have messsssed up my dissspensor, rodent..." Get him more drunk?

"I think you've had enough, Dinobutt.." he mumbled then smirked and almost giggled over his own lame joke.

"......I want to inssssure you haven't tampered with my dispenser!" Oh, too little too late for that!

He blinked then shrugged and filled up another glass, passing it to him as he glanced around; locating the nearly empty bottle he'd brought in with him and took another swig from it.

The warrior slowly sat up again, taking the glass after a few misses, and downed it at once; his optics flashed on, and stayed on weakly as he growled. ".....better...." And he managed to set the glass on the table, and then blinked. "....nnnnrgh.....where is it, you....thief....thieving mouse?"

"Where's what?" He swayed then reached out to steady himself, leaning against a wall at the foot of the bunk.

He was silent, for the moment, as if remembering what. "My....ssss....ssssscrap metal....where did you put it?" And he looked around quickly, optics bright, glowing when they fell on the small scrap of metal on the floor. And he rose unsteadily, beastmoding, landing nearly on his side from the effort, and stumbled over; even in his drunk state, however, he carefully picked up the piece without nicking himself, and managed to drop it on the table, scaled hands unmarred, and he laboriously coiled himself on top of his bunk, organic eyes misty.

He blinked, "Dat little razor bit? What's it for anyway?" He blinked again. Were the lights fading in and out? he shook his head then slumped down and sat on the foot of the bunk without asking permission or thinking about it

"It'ss.....it'ssss mine, rat.....don't you ever touch it." The raptor pressed his talons to the top of his head, finally feeling some more effects, the start of a hangover, and with a growl, transformed, lying facedown on his bunk, unmindful of the fact his transforming had kicked the rat to the floor.

"Ow! Hey!" he landed on his skid plates, glaring, then looked at his hand which had started to bleed through the bandage, "All I did was ask a question, ya don't gonna be so touchy..."

"....isss.....mine," repeated the raptor, but there seemed to be a new tone in his voice; he was not raging, but stating something. "....is....issss all mine....my fault....misssstake after missstake....and now.....he....he'ssss dead...."

Rattrap lifted his head, confused and surprised, "Who's dead??"

Dinobot did not look up from the bed, voice muffled slightly. ".....my fault.....sssshould....never have left him....at Darksssside...."

"Whos' dead?' he pressed, his optics wide. If any of the Preds had recently been scrapped it was news to him!

The raptor hissed softly, shifting to face the wall, back to the bothersome voice behind him. ".....mine.....my creation....I made him....my son...."

"What are you goin' on about now??" He looked at his, wide opticed. This was even more perplexing than the talk about Cybertron

"My son is dead," repeated the raptor softly, the grief clear in his voice. "....my son....my only son....should have never left him at Darkside, never...."

"Since when do you have a kid??" And who WAS he? He almost asked. He ran over a list of the younger Preds in his alcohol muddled head…Terrorsaur, Waspinator, Scorponok..but surely none of THEM could be related to Dinobot??

"Since......does it matter, he's dead." And the grief was clear in his voice, grief and guilt. This had to have happened recently though....the past month of the raptor being moody, always on patrol or in his room...

If his processor hadn't been slowed so much it wouldn't have been so hard to replay every encounter he'd had with Preds over the last month...which was basically none. That didn't rule any of them out. Make a guess? The raptor was being slow of offering information after all and if he'd been in beast mode his whiskers would have been twitching with curiosity"....Waspinator?"

"....what about the wasssssp?" Not him, then....but how could anyone leave their own blood in the enemy's ship?

"Oh good cause I uh...Never mind..." Well his Pred-parts collection was safe for the most part. "Scorponok, then, huh?"

"The slag are you talking about?" Asking for names was not working, at least....he could run down the entire Predacon crew. And suddenly, softly. "....a year ago. That'ssss when....a little over a year..."

None of the Preds were that young! Now he was really mystified, "Ya lost me, Chopperface. Really lost me...what happened a year ago? And don't say it doesn't matter. It matters, okay? Ya can't drop a bomb shell on me like this and not clear it up..."

"...ssssshouldn't have even touched the pod...." Choppaface had done what?

"POD?" His voice rose slightly, further shocked, "What pod?"

"Hissss pod.....ssstupid....ssstupid Maximal breaking sssstructures....damaged pod....landing on featherssss they'd sssstill break..."

"So you found a damaged pod...and then?" he pressed, trying to get him past insulting Maximal technology and onto the important part.

"Damaged....ssss.....data trackssss missing.....found the sssspider there." And silence, deep silence. ".....didn't ssssee him touch the pod....sssslagged him....too far from Axalon and sssstupid Maximal pod.....sssspark losssss in four cycles.....needed data tracksssss......shouldn't....ssssshouldn't have touched the pod at all...."

Rattrap blinked, silent, enthralled but waiting for the warrior to continue

".....gave it.....gave it my tracksssss......spark survived....protoform survived...." And a dark, almost anguished sound. "....he was mine.....he was.....and he.....transssformed....Pred...Predacon activation code.....the ssssspider got there first..."

Rattrap swallowed hard, then offered hesitantly, "Ya couldn't have known that..."

"Ssssshouldn't have touched the pod.....protoform....ssssurvived....went to Darkside...."

"If you hadn't it woulda died and ya didn't know its protocol chip had been switched." he paused, remembering one of Cheetor's remarks. Better dead than Pred? He couldn't bring himself to believe that though, when he thought about the situation.

The identity of this bot was still unknown, but this at least explained the raptor's change over the past month, his lack of interest in much anything, in any contact. A parent grieving for his son, but a secret child, a secret grief.....and he was dead now regardless. No wonder the raptor had withdrawn even further from the crew. Grief aside, to not tell anyone of this, of giving the Predacons a new warrior that carried half his strength...

Rattrap struggled with his initial impulse to rip into the Raptor for touching a pod to begin with but what he'd said was true. From the sound of it if he hadn't, the spark inside would have extinguished. And who was he to judge Dinobot's grief, having never been a parent even of an unexpected, unwanted child? " You shoulda told us..."

A low hiss. ".....yesss.....told Primal I let a protoform be reprogrammed and live? .....been trying to....rectify my missstake....alwayssss failed....now he'sss dead....could not....even try to get him from Darksssside...."

"The Bossbot woulda understood what you were trying ta do," he insisted, getting frustrated with talking to the bigger bot's back.

"Doessssn't matter.....he'sss dead....." If nothing else, the heavy drink had at least allowed him to grieve, rather than bottling everything up...

He sighed, "I'm uh...I'm sorry..." he paused, "How...how do ya know he's dead, anyway?"

".....missssing in patrols....over a month....overheard flyers talking....mantis is dead." Wait, that was his kid? The insane scientist, the one who had sent every Maximal to the R? .....though if memory served, Dinobot alone had never ended up being carried there in agony from toxins or poisons....he had been struck with discs, yes, but never as the others had, and even then, only in the past few months had they really been hit...

"THAT'S yer kid?" He almost squeaked, cringing. Purple discs! He looked at the shard then at his hand, wandering why the raptor would ever keep one of those things.

The raptor barely nodded....but there was nothing else in the room to indicate the raptor cared about anyone or anything, save for fighting and winning the war...but at some point he had started to care about the now gone mantis, his lost son....

He wasn't exactly sure he could understand the raptor's grief with all the damage the insane Pred had caused…but then, he reminded himself again he'd never shared a bond like Dinobot had with his son.

Of course, it was a weak bond at best, but if even the stoic raptor could care, even too late, for his own flesh and blood, perhaps there was something there....something that a parent saw in a child, even an evil one. Of course....Rattrap had never fully been in the Darkside, other than as a visitor....it was far too likely that the mantis, known offspring of the traitor, had suffered for his parentage, and perhaps part of the guilt was from that as well....and Dinobot was silent...

He sighed, looking at the metal plated floor, "Look, I won't...tell anyone er anything..." he paused. No response. Was he even listening?

Silence still from the raptor, and a low hiss, his breathing shallow.

He rubbed his optics, "I mean, cause obviously ya don't wanna talk about it..."

A low rumble, and the warrior turned over; his optics were off....the damn lizard was asleep! Hopefully starting to sleep off his hangover...but there was a trace of wetness on his face. Tears? Actual emotion from the lizardbreath?

He blinked some of his grogginess away in shock, "Ya gotta be kiddin' me..."

Thank Primus the raptor was asleep, or passed out....either way the rat was free to leave with his new information....while asleep, his snarling facade down, the warrior for once looked almost aged, old, with the look of someone who has made far more wrong choices than right, and knows it...

Rattrap felt a surge of pity for him, something he'd never expected to feel for the raptor. Ever. If it had been Cheetor, heck, most any Maximal, he'd have felt bad leaving him alone but with the raptor…

He paused looking at one of the raptor's hands then took it and squeezed it in kind of a supportive way.

No response from the raptor; at least he was deep asleep! .....still, if he had spoken the truth, Megatron's mission had been with some form of noble cause, if High Command really was weeding out Predacons, sending them from the Homeworld, or killing those who refused to go...what else had the stoic fighter lost, even before meeting with Megatron? And now refusing to work with the bot who had started the war, forced to side with the very people who worked with High Command, or had, who had no understanding....and to ice it all, the secret child, the murderous child, the perfect Predacon, now dead...

Of course, the rat could always ask and know when the other Maximals were homesick, or generally down....the raptor kept to himself, and from his drunken words, he held regret for his actions against the mantis. He had wanted him, had perhaps even intended to bring him to the Axalon, and the rescue would never happen now. Perhaps Megatron had killed him, or he had juggled the wrong toxins....and the raptor looked, for the first time, almost normal, despite the grief in his face, his curled up form. Some emotion that was not irritation or outright anger...but there was nothing Rattrap could say to even start to understand.

Rattrap sighed, half wishing he didn't know what he did, that he could just go back to thinking of Dinobot as emotionless and stoic. Normally he'd have said tough, that everyone suffered at some point. Or at least tried to pretend he believed that but the strong drink had had an affect on his emotion circuits as well and he felt pretty bad for giving the raptor such a hard time.

He turned to go then stopped. Or…was stopped. Damn. He stared at the raptor's hand now clenched around his cut one and struggled to pull it back. Nothing. Slagging Pred had a vice grip! He yelped in surprised as the raptor rolled over and jerked him off his feet in the process, pulling him onto the bunk...in fact on-top of Dinobot. Yikes…

Only then was his hand free, but from the change in breath of the raptor, he was not so deeply asleep...bolting would surely wake him!

He grimaced. Waking Dinobot up in this position was a sure way to get his head taken off. He'd have to hope he fell back into a deeper sleep

The raptor sighed softly, but was breathing shallowly; the hand that had been on Rattrap fell aside, and for several minutes, silence, save for the raptor's breath...and a sudden, strange, frightening pulse to the rat's spark.

He winced, shifting very slightly, trying to slide off the bunk and the bigger bot then froze. Was that flicker of light in his optics? he held his breath and didn't move an inch

The pulse at his spark was stronger when he moved....oooooh Primus, he'd heard of this, sparks not being discriminatory...but damn if his first piece of tail since Cybertron would be the raptor!

Had anyone asked, Rattrap would have been the first to label himself experienced in matters of spark melding. He'd had more of his share of femmes back on Cybertron and a couple of mechs as well, for Cybertronians, unlike Humans, had accepted male pair-bonding just as naturally as male and female since the ratio of males to females was considerably lopsided, one female for ever 19 males or so. Therefore it was only natural, since bonding with a male was truly no different than bonding with a female, that such occurrences would take place. However, in the rat's experience these had all been direct spark to spark contact, and very much of a conceptual and purposeful manner. If he had been informed of the existence of Destined Sparks, as was the romantized term, or sparks so keenly alike in nature that they were drawn to each other like magnets when given close proximately, armor removed or not, he would said it was heap of slag and the informer's processor was malfunctioning. Therefore he had little way of knowing what was occurring to him just now.

"Dat's it, I'm outta here..." he hissed, the fur on his beast mode parts standing on end as he looked at the door, thinking even getting taken apart piece by piece was better than this… well, okay, the sensation wasn't exactly terrible…or maybe he was just that disoriented. If he had been entirely honest, it was the most intensely pleasurable feeling he could ever have imagined. When a spark find's its match, after all, the bond between them produces sensations far superior to that of any common spark bonding.

Being drunk couldn't help either....and it was nice....all he needed to do was close his optics, and drift away....it wasn't that bad of a feeling...and why not ice the cake? He'd already gotten the raptor drunk, found out some deep secrets...why not take advantage of him, just a liiiiittle more? This was dishonorable, of course, and something he would feel shame for later, but just now the sensations overloaded his local and moral circuitry.

Which, being Rattrap, he had an excuse ready for. It had to be the alcohol because when he shifted again to try and pull away the sensation had grown stronger, and just...wow. It was like having his circuit board fried except it felt...well good wasn't a strong enough word and he wouldn't admit to more.

The raptor was silent, but his breathing deepened as he dropped into deeper sleep....oh, the sensations were nice....the rat likely hadn't felt anything like this since....well, they had crashed...in truth, never before.

Rattrap shuddered, his breath quickening a little, "Okay now it's really time to go..." But he couldn't seem to drag himself away. Maybe just another moment

And another, and another....the moments were very long, and very very nice...~go on, rats...just close your eyes and think of some nice femme....it all feels the same!~

His optics flickered off, lost in the sensations...and the next thing he knew...the sun was coming up.

Beeping from the raptor's computer alarm, but it did not startle him awake....the rat, on the other hand, having slept on the raptor all night....!

His optics blinked on, then he groaned as the hangover hit. "Ow..."

His spark was surely sore as well, but what was more alarming was a soft snarl from Dinobot, who rolled to his side....he was waking up!

Oh...SLAG...He scrambled away from him and fell off the bunk. Ow.

The raptor hissed, but did not move further....time to run, rat!

He scrambled for the door hitting the open panel

Primus, or someone, had to be watching over the rat; the raptor remained still, his systems finally working out the rest of his overcharged state, and the rat was able to flee....

***

_**Author's Note:** My first slash fic! Whoopee!!! LOL Anyway, hopefully everything was in character on my part as I am solely responsible for Rattrap and my partner in crime, Taratron, is responsible for this spot on and well done representation of Dinobot. More chapters coming along soon, with luck. Tara has been very very busy over the holiday season and I miss her terribly but it is all understandable. Sadly, one can not make a living off fan fiction. As always my admiration goes out to her on her stunningly well thoughtout plot twists and her brilliant original character, Manterror, whom I have been in love with for the moment I met him in his premereing fic years ago. Without him and thus her imagination, this fic would not only not exist but be pitiful by conparision. I humbly bow to her genius._

_Also, my congratulations to the ever enthralling Shockbox and her newest masterpiece, "The Scarlet Star", posted recently, which is not only the best slash fan fic I have ever had the privelidge of reading but perhaps one of the best fics I have ever read. I highly recommend it. it in in my favorites list. I also recommend her fic "The Little Details", which is very well thought out and certain tear jerker. All for now!_


	5. If I Could Love

**Darkness That Lies Within**

**Taratron and Onyxfang, 2009**

_There's something sweet and almost kind_

_But he was mean and he was coarse and unrefined_

_And now he's dear and so unsure_

_I wonder why I didn't see it there before_

_She glanced this way, I thought I saw_

_And when we touched she didn't shudder at my paw_

_No, it can't be I'll just ignore_

_But then she's never looked at me that way before_

_New and a bit alarming_

_Who'd have ever thought that this could be?_

_True that he's no Prince Charming_

_But there's something in him that I simply didn't see_

_Beauty and the Beast, Something There, 1991_

_Like a son taking in by the wind_

_Everybody wants to give in_

_Something about a second chance_

_Can't you help me out?_

_If I could love you_

_If I could love you_

_If I could love you_

_Through the wind I can feel_

_Through the trees I can steal_

_But you never ever want to see my way_

_But we're here in the dark and the dogs starting to bark_

_Cause I'm selfish and you'll never get your way, it's okay_

_If I could love_

_If I could love_

_If I could love_

_Somethings going on in me that you never wanna see_

_I think somethings wrong with you_

_But you know that I love you_

_You don't seem to be around even when everything's going down_

_Why don't you wanna feel my pain?_

_If I could love you…_

_Puddle of Mudd, If I Could Love You, 2007_

_***_

For Laserbeak, each day blended into the next; the mantis allowed her out of her cell a few times a day to stretch herself, but otherwise she remained locked up. The few times she made any sound larger than a whisper, her voice box was shut off for hours, and if she dared make any sounds when mute, her eyesight was turned off for the remainder of whatever the mantis' task at hand was. He had not touched her since the first day, but after three days of silence from him, perhaps even rage from her master was better than his neglect....though once a day he always left her a box of energon, with a new disc or two, sometimes only of pictures and images, other times small things to read....by midday of her fourth day of captivity, the mantis seemed in an odd, almost happy mood as he moved around his lab; her box of food was due any moment...

The cage was uncomfortably cramp in bot mode but a little less so in beast mode so at the moment she hung upside down rather like a bat, her wings folded around her, her claws hooked around one of the bars that made up the roof of the cage, studying the two names on the floor, now with a couple more added to them. Still they held little meaning to her that she understood and yet much. So much. If only she could access the damaged section of her processor which withheld the memories of life before planet fall she was certain it would all make sense.

The door to her room opened, and the shadow of her silent master fell over the names, her cage, herself, and he strode in, humming slightly, and, as usual, dropped her slim box between the bars, pushing it in lightly with a foot, and he looked at her, truly seemed to remember she was present, optics almost warm. "Enjoying the benefits of gravity, slave?"

She blinked her green eyes, uncertain if she was to speak, and then nodded quickly. She was a fast learner and did not fancy having her vocalizer disabled, or, worse, removed.

"Speak."

"I think best in this position, master. It seems to suit my beast mode well," she replied softly.

"Speak honestly, always, slave. Are your quarters decent?" Well, decent in cleanliness, but not size...

She considered her words carefully, "They are all that I have earned as of yet, master."

"I enjoy the humility in your words, slave....you have learned quickly with your voice and optics that I am to be obeyed. And you did not make a mistake once yesterday...."

Her luminous green eyes brightened, "Then may I be allowed out?" Her smile faded quickly and she looked down, focusing on the bottom of the cage. "Master…excuse my presumptions…"

He looked at her steadily; perhaps she would suffer blindness for a full day for her words! And instead, after a long pause, he smiled, a glimpse, a true smile, a glimpse of someone beyond her cold and hateful master, and he unlocked the door, opening it for her. "Come out."

She blinked then dropped down and transformed stepping out hesitantly. Even though she expected a mood swing at any click she found she liked his smile. It sent a pleasant pulsing through her spark, akin to a tingle.

He did not block her path, but let her step out fully, watching with a small smile. "Yes, slave....better?"

"Yes, thank you, master…" she murmured, smiling hesitantly. His mannerisms, kind as they were, were unnerving. She should have been concerned for her survival that he was contemplating her destruction at least, she thought, but Laserbeak was by nature a forgiving and optimistic sort. That played together well with her recent training sessions, reforming her mind set that she had no right to hold a grudge for her prior treatment. After all, she belonged to him to do with as he willed. So rather than dreading the outcome of this new mood, she welcomed it, if nervously. If her master were truly happy, then she should be happy as well.

"Good. Now eat, slave....I will be back soon, and then we have plans." He stepped from the room, closing the door behind him, leaving her alone, out of her cage....

She blinked, but of course before she could ask he was gone. The young femme sat silently, recharging and fueling her system. At one point following the absorption of her last energon fragment, she paused, noticing a peculiar mark on her bot mode's right hand. She rubbed at it but it seemed embedded into the metal. Hmmm. She brought her hand closer to her face, studying the seemingly pattern less design engraved into her palm. But it had to have some meaning...

How long he had been standing there, watching her, she might never know, but there was a purposeful clink of his foot on the ground, and there he was, in the doorway, watching her with narrowed optics....he had seen her staring at her hand!

Her optics flickered rapidly, and then she quickly rubbed her hand against her leg armor as if some dust or contamination had settled into the creases and joints that she was tying to get rid of as she rose quickly to her feet. Manterror was not fooled, but he made no comment on the matter.

"Come with me," he said; he did not order her to remain silent, or at his side; he knew she would know that already. And he led her from the room, down a long hallway at the back of his lab, the air growing thinner in places, and very very hot...and after a trek that went forever, he activated something on his comm, and the end of the tunnel, all heavy and hot rock, parted, revealing open air....they were _outside_ Darkside!

Unaccustomed to the sudden presence of such light, her optics shuttered briefly, then she tilted her head back to look up at the sky, to feel a breeze rustle her wings. Such colors! Such beauty! Even here, among the barrens, the sky was a glorious blue dotted only occasionally with a rare fleecily cloud. The ground under her feet was blackened volcanic ash which contrasted in the most vivid way and the glow of super heated lava beneath the ship reflected on the Darkside's dull plating.

"Beastmode and hold on." He beastmoded as well, and lifted his wings, revealing a flat body for her to cling to....he meant for her to ride him, apparently!

Startled from her revelry, she reacted in surprise but quickly did as she was told, beast moding and scrambling up on his back behind his wings, her own beast mode barely big enough to add any weight at all as it was actually a little smaller than Rattrap's.

He waited for her to settle, then rose, wings beating over her almost deafeningly as he flew away, over and away from the rank-smelling Darkside, the lava pits, far and away, the breeze so clear and clean, so welcoming....her first time out of Darkside, out of the base!.....and if only he could fly forever, or let her fly!....and then he landed suddenly, past Darkside, past the bronzed mesas of flat rock, in a thick meadow, the grass growing nearly over his head as he descended, twisting his lower body that she dropped off onto the ground.

To her credit, she caught herself quickly, transforming mid-roll and ending in a crouch in bot mode, rather pleased with herself considering her lack of experience in combat.

He transformed as well, barely glancing at her. "Keep around me, slave...but stay out of my way." And he clicked out an oddly hollow disc, and began searching silently, letting have her a small bit of freedom, to taste the air, to even explore slightly!

She nodded obediently, "Yes, master." She took a step after him then paused as some of the young grass flattened under her birdlike feet. It was an entirely new sensation and she dropped down to admire the vividly green vegetation, lost in the height of it around her, her optics focusing on a butterfly settled on a blade of greenery.

The insect was a lovely Eastern tiger swallowtail, _Papilio glaucus_, considerably large for it's species with what she estimated to be a 12 cm wingspan. This particular specimen was a dark morph female, the shadow of her four black "tiger stripes" on each fore wing barely visible beneath an overall indigo blue-black pigment. The trailing edges of the fore and hind wings are black were broken with dainty white spots. On the medial margin of the hind wing next to the abdomen there were a number of brighter blue spots.

Taken as she was with the tiny creature, Laserbeak knew far better than to call her master's attention to it. It would serve him little purpose and to distract him from his task might well mean and end to his good mood. She observed the tiny creature until it fluttered away, feeling an ache in her spark that she could not join it. Unbeknownst to her, because she was so intent on finding more specimens to study, she did not notice that on occasion her master's gaze would linger on her.

For nearly an hour he set about catching new specimens, reverting to beastmode when the surges started, and after nearly an hour of beastmode hunts, he slid away his final collection disc. "Done, slave....let's go."

She looked up from where she was intently studying a delicate gossamer spider web beaded with dew and scrambled to her feet, her expression positively glowing as she hurried over to him, beast moding.

He lifted his wings again, waiting for her to settle, and flew back to base; even if it had been for such a short time, how wonderful to be outside, not to be chained up, to be, almost, free....and back to the tunnel, where he oddly did not make her get off, instead clattering and flying lowly back to the lab, and only then did he drop her, and transform, clearly pleased with the day.

Laserbeak smiled, transforming and standing patiently, waiting to be ordered back to her cage obediently, utterly content.

Yet he did not seem interested in that; in fact, he merely waved her toward the storage room, and humming still, began to release his new arrivals, new snakes and spiders, even a few centipedes....she was left to her own devices in the room....surely that meant she could look over the books?

She hesitated, looking over the titles. But she thought about a week, even a month in the darkness. Even with the images she could comfort herself with from the outside, it seemed…wrong. He had been unusually kind to her today and she lathed to betray his trust by overstepping boundaries. Of course, she could always _ask_....he seemed in a good enough mood!

"Master..?" she ventured softly, almost afraid to speak.

"Yes?" No snarl in his voice, only the clicks of cages. But surely it would be better to speak to him directly, rather than risk his rage at calling for his attention...

She ventured timidly out of the hall peering through the doorway, "Would it be alright if I read one of the Human artifacts?"

"Hm? Yes, yes, whatever, fine." But there was only a little impatience at being bothered; he did not even turn to glare at her, or snap for her to remember her place....

"Thank you, Master...I'll be quiet and do my best not to bother you,' she added brightly, smiling as she ducked back inside.

He nodded, but did not speak again, busy away....she would surely need to thank him more when he approached her, but he did not, for the rest of the day, happily busy with his new specimens, to the point it was past nightfall when he was finally done, finishing his daily notes, and paused at a noise, rising and peeking secretly into his storage room....what was she doing?

She sat cross-legged in her cage, one book, Journey to the Center of the Earth, already read and sat off to one side, and more than half way through another, Plague Dogs, her optics rapidly scanning a page, enthralled. Whom ever had first owned the Darkside had excellent taste in literature, as most of the books were classics, with the exception of the three Harry Potter books she had located. She paused then giggled softly at something, before shaking her head.

"Slave." His voice was soft but commanding....how long had he been there, watching her ignore him? Oh, surely the beating would start soon, after such a wonderful day!

Laserbeak flinched an almost dropped the book then laid it down quickly, reverently, getting up rapidly, "Yes, master?"

"You lost your place," he said softly. "Find it again and come out here." He stepped away from the doorframe, but he was smiling faintly.

Whatever she had expected, it had not been that! For a moment she stood frozen in place, then knelt and picked up the book quickly, skimming to the right place before she followed him out.

"Hungry?" He had his back to her, at one of his empty and cleaned lab tables, and he seated himself at the head of it; at its side, however, was a second plate, gleaming with energon. He meant for her to eat with him.....?

She blinked in surprise, "Yes, thank you master..." she smiled hesitantly, sitting very slowly, ready to jump up at a nano-click's notice if he seemed displeased.

He smiled faintly at her, and quietly ate his own plate full, not speaking to her once, though from time to time he glanced at her, as if insuring she had not bolted, and was in fact eating. He was hardly the person she had first met, though that monster of course was always close by, and when she was done, he made no move to have her leave, merely watching her carefully, orange optics almost mesmerizing.

Her optics shuttered twice in a rapid succession, catching herself staring into his optics then quickly looked down, her facial plate growing warm in the areas just below her optics, almost emitting a faint glow.

"Yes, slave?" Such a soft voice, almost kind. Almost hard to believe he was so cruel, had been so terrible to her already...

"I.." she hesitated, not wanting to sound like she was just trying to suck up when she was truly being sincere in her statement, "Was just thinking that the color scheme of your armor is quite flattering is all, Master."

A soft smirk. "Pleasant flattery, slave, but thank you. Has your day been decent?"

"Oh, wonderful!" Her optics lit up and she looked up quickly, her expression once more open and exuberant," So many things to see and learn about, even to overload my processor..."

"....you have done well today, slave.....I think you can sleep outside your cell if you have a place cleared in the storage room."

She blinked, surprised, then ducked her head respectfully in gratitude, "Thank you, master..."

He nodded, taking their plates away, setting them in a side cleaner; she was apparently dismissed. Was it so simple, though? He had treated her so well, so kind...it was almost scary.

She hesitated, unsure if she should wait to be dismissed vocally then slowly picked up her book and moved towards the storage room.

He let her alone, and slowly began turning down his lab, shutting off the lights over his specimens, turning the slow heater on them for the night, the entire lab dark save for his quarters and her storage room, and he peeked in again, curious if she had set up a bunk of sorts.

The lavender colored female flyer lay stretched out on the floor, surrounded by books, now within the last few pages of the one she'd been reading, though her face was now somber, a tear rolling down one cheek as she studied the page with slow deliberation, obviously saddened but drinking it in.

He was silent, watching her finish the story. He had never found any of the books worth anything but fuel for the lava...

She bit her lower lip, another tear trickling slowly down her cheek, "Oh..." she sighed softly, sadly, flipping to the next page. It was as if the world around her had ceased to exist but for the pages in front of her, in which lay a world she had escaped to, one full of new experiences and sensations, uncountable joys and spark humbling sorrows.

He waited, silent, for her to finish, to be done with whatever had touched her so. He idly glanced around the room; she had cleaned it up somewhat, for space for her sleeping area. A number of crates which had been scattered around the floor were now neatly stacked to form a wall and not block the overhead lighting. The books were neatly piled and organized alphabetically by title and a section in which she now lay had been cleared for sleeping both in beast mode and bot mode. Now it looked more like one of the small personal quarters in the barracks.

She seemed almost regretful to close the book as if hoping more of the story would appear. Suddenly she looked up and blinked, wiping rapidly at her tears, not necessarily afraid so much as embarrassed, "oh, master...I'm sorry...I..."

"It is fine, slave." And there was no anger in his voice, no cruelty; in that moment, he seemed almost...pleased to see her happy. Yet he remained still, watching her....perhaps he had not changed at all, was merely offering a new tactic for her to please him....

She hesitated, "If I am reading too much, I didn't mean to do anything to offend you."

"You are fine, slave." And he stepped back from the doorway, leaving her, though he did firmly close the door, so far unlocked. Had there been impatience in his voice? Perhaps tomorrow things would return to normal, how they had been prior...

Her optics flickered on and off in thought. If only she could help him share some of the joy she'd gotten out of the day…she looked through the books thoughtfully. Maybe if she tried reading some it to him. No, he clearly thought the books as waste, garbage....he wanted to be alone in his studies...but....if nothing else, if she did want to thank him for the day, there was...always the distasteful option of offering herself.

Laserbeak swallowed hard, looking down. She didn't think she could do that so easily, and not whole heartedly. A few more clicks; he was closing down for recharge himself. Such a good day, a wonderful day....to be forced back into her cage again at a chance, was it worth it? Surely as debase as it was, to offer some form of gratitude would be good?

At Spark, Laserbeak had always been a foolish romantic. She believed spark-bonding should be left to those who were truly in love, not merely a way to receive pleasure or pass time. The idea of doing it out of gratitude, not love, offended her, and yet...and yet...not so greatly as it might have once. Odd. Considering her options were so limited it seemed as though it were her only choice to make him happy. And she did want to make him happy, she found. She slipped out of the storage room, and then paused. What if he got mad at her for going into his quarters?

Thank Primus, but he was not yet in his quarters; a light over one of his lab tables was on, but even as she watched, he put aside the last minute project, killing the light....now or never, or she could back down still, there was time for that!

"Master?" she ventured to speak shyly.

"Yes?" He turned, facing her.

"I…I just...wanted to thank you for today...' she murmured slowly, working up to it.

"All right....it was a good day." So simple, so calm now, somehow.

"And...I was trying to think of some way to show my appreciation…"

"It was a good day....go recharge, slave."

She hesitated. That was an obvious dismissal but she wanted to thank him so much, "I thought...you might need to relieve your stress..."

Only then did he glance at her, those bright orange optics! "You have two nanoclicks to explain, slave..."

"Like before, when you were angry…when we joined. I thought you might want to again…" she swallowed hard and looked down, worried she's far overstepped her boundaries.

Silence from him (was he enraged? Did he mean to lock her back in her cell now!) for several long moments. "Slave....go recharge. I will lock up after you. Now."

She nodded quickly, "Yes, Master..." she looked abashed and apologetic as she hurried back to the storage room.

He followed her, not to closely, but thankfully only locked the room door, leaving her out and free for the night, and he retired to recharge himself. He had rejected her....or perhaps he knew her offer was to placate him, an exchange for further good days out....

She blinked, feeling a pang of guilt. Wishing she could have made him understand that she wanted to make him happy.

But surely he _was_ pleased, if only because he had let her out still....but he left her alone to sleep. So why did she feel so…_hurt_ by his rejection? Almost as if she'd wanted to join with him, as if her offer had been entirely sincere.

It was all far too confusing. Her feelings for Manterror were far more complex than she had at first realized. Perhaps it was only the effect of his kindness that day, the realization that while she still feared him to some extent, feared looking into those infernoish orange optics which burned brighter and hotter than the lave warming the ship, she also felt drawn to look into them. Dismayed, the little flyer curled up in her little nest of books and tried to sleep.


End file.
